


We've got tonight

by LimoFatig



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LimoFatig/pseuds/LimoFatig
Summary: Harry spends most of his nights wondering the castle. One night, he comes back earlier than usual, and something in the air feels different. It's weird, but it's like the universe is telling him to spend his night on a couch, with Malfoy, instead. As weird as it is, he feels in his bones; he's exactly where he's supposed to be.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 30





	We've got tonight

Harry had just come back from his nightly walk around the castle. Even the eight years had a curfew, so they would get some sleep, and be able to pay attention in class, but no one dared to reprimand him for any of his multiple breaks of the rules. Prefects feared or admired him; Professors were mostly thankful to be alive. A few of them understood his need for these walks of loneliness in the calm dark of the castle at night as his way of grounding himself once more. Those, like McGonagall, just smiled and said nothing when they would pass him in the hall, even particularly late at night, they would let him be. Harry of course felt unworthy of being so privileged but soon started to enjoy wondering around without his cloak.

It was a still night. Back in the eight-year common room, he could see through the high windows the usually windy Scotland countryside being as calm as can be. The cold November full moon illuminated the whole room, and he could see as clear as in the light of day.

Malfoy was sitting on the couch closest to the fireplace, poised as ever, is in emerald green silk pajamas. The moon light made his hair a shiny silver in a very cold manner. His face and hands were however warmed by the fire light. His whole body was glowing. The stillness of the trees outside and the otherwise empty room made his presence ever more impossible to ignore. Harry was mesmerized.

The Gryffindor was not the kind to notice the signs a moment like that was pointing at him. The cold and warm light both illuminating his school rival as to show him he had two sides to him could have been obvious to an analytical mind, but it was not to Harry.

Still, he felt the need to sit with him. The Gryffindor couldn’t see nor understand the signals the universe sent him, but he could always _feel_ them.

“Back so soon Potter? Hufflepuff girls all have your autographs? The Minister wasn’t available for a pint on a Tuesday night? With so charged an agenda, I’m surprised you ever get any sleep at all.”

His characteristic smirk was present the same, but his tone and voice sounded tired. The war had clearly made they boyish rivalry less fun, less meaningful.

Harry did not pick on that either though, and immediately got up to punch him directly in the jaw. He then grabbed him by the collar and but whispered in his ear: “I killed your body Tom Riddle Malfoy, don’t for a second think I went through that trouble to get bullied by a git like you.”

The blond boy showed a wide range of emotions in the few seconds that followed. Fear, rage, arousal, sadness, resilience. If only Harry could see, he could have understood so much. So much more than Draco was usually willing to divulge, actually.

All Harry could see in those grey eyes were his own loss projected into the only enemy he had left. With Voldemort gone, Malfoy was it. The perfect personification of all his troubles. It was so easy to blame Malfoy. For the war and everyone’s deaths. He was the perfect punching bag.

The Slytherin still had not replied to the threat. He could think of a million snarky things to say but all of them seemed to have the potential to make things escalate to a level neither of them wanted to go to.

After a while, Harry let go of his collar, and sat back on the couch. Close. So close their thighs were touching. Harry turned his head to look outside once more. Still no movement. It felt like the whole outside world was a painting on those windows. As cliché as it may sounds, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Harry was hard in his pants, not having a clue when or more importantly why it had happened. The green-eyed boy instincts proved once more way more intelligent than he was, after catching up on the other’s boy arousal and reacted appropriately. Their pricks apparently understood each other a lot better than their brains did.

So Harry did the only think he knew out to do: he acted. Turned around swiftly, grabbed Malfoy by the collar once again, and kissed him passionately.

The Slytherin replied immediately, but barely moved at all, mostly by the shock of it. The kiss was mostly tongue and teeth; the sitting side by side position was uncomfortable, and the whole thing was over in a few seconds.

Harry sat back facing the fire. The right move now would be to leave of course. Go back to his room and forget this out of time moment ever happened. But it was the last thing he wanted.

Harry had fought and killed and lost so much. The kiss had been more awkward than pleasant and despite all that, had been the most intense moment of his young life.

He got up to pick up a warm blanket on a nearby couch, only to sit back down to cuddle with Malfoy, spreading the blanket over them both.

Harry Potter was not good at reading the universe signals, but somehow knew in that particular moment that they would not be disturbed. No one would walk in, no one would catch them in a loving embrace and no scandal would break out the next morning.

During the hours that followed, Harry pondered a lot of things. Maybe they should talk? About the war, about their relationship. Maybe he should fuck him, Malfoy seemed to have enjoyed the kiss and Harry didn’t feel even an once of the shyness girls he dated made him feel.

Everything with Malfoy was complicated and filled with ambiguous emotions. But things were also simple and real. He never felt more himself than in the Slytherin’s company. With him more than anyone else, he was not the savior. He was just a teenager, entangled in a stupid fight with the school bully, nothing more.

And just like that, it was morning. Both boys saw the light of dawn enter the room at the same time. Telling them recess was over. They hadn’t fuck. Hadn’t said anything but those two sentences, so many ours ago. They started walking at the exact same pace, which put a tender smile on Draco’s face, that Harry obviously did not notice.

Arrived at their bedroom doors, they finally looked at each other for the first time since the kiss, their eyes once again in union, filled with the same question: to whether or not speak. As if other words would kill the moment. The new day should bring things back to normal, with them ignoring each other or shouting insults at each other. 

Harry actually had a casual meeting with the Minister that night, like Malfoy had guessed. He could bring Malfoy along, that would grandly help him and his future career. He could play seekers games with him at night. He could make out with him on the Ravenclaw table for that matter. The Wizarding world would forgive him anything, just like the staff and kids here let him wonder at night and let him do whatever he wanted.

Doing things was easy. Answering questions that usually came after… was not. So he nodded gently at Malfoy, and entered his bedroom without speaking a word.

The night was over. 

**Author's Note:**

> Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely  
> All of my hopes fading away  
> I've longed for love like everyone else does  
> I know I'll keep searching after today


End file.
